Breaking Form
by featheredblades
Summary: "Ever wondered how the Marauders got the idea to become Animagi? I've heard the rumours that it was in a third year Transfiguration class, that it was a spontaneous remark from James or Sirius. The reality is that it was more. A whole lot more."
1. The Cat is Out of the Bag

"Ever wondered how the Marauders got the idea to become Animagi? It is usually described as a moment of inspiration from Sirius or James, perhaps the result of a lesson in third year Transfiguration. The reality is that there was more to it, untold. A whole lot more."

 **A/N: Rated M for future content, pairings slight JP/LE, SB/OC, RB/DM, RL/MD. Hey everyone, this is my first Harry Potter story. I absolutely love the Marauders Era and read so many amazing fanfics I just had to try my own- although mea culpa, please forgive me in that I am not an absolute Potterhead, any world building inconsistencies please message me!**

 **Thank you so much for reading, and welcome to Breaking Form.**

 **Breaking Form**

 **Codename: The Cat is Out of the Bag ("but why would the cat be in the bag?" "Shut up James.")**

Sirius, despite his usual persona, needed moments for a Big Think.

Tonight was one of those occasions. He wandered along the shifting corridors, the Disillusionment spell Andromeda taught him cloaking his form, Filch's patterns of patrol safely avoided. He didn't exactly know where he was going, in the way that Regulus used to admit he was "following his own feet"- and Merlin that twinged in a bittersweet staccato, because Family was a common theme of Sirius' Big Thinks. Now the topic was a little more pressing.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

His housemate, fellow Marauder and friend was a werewolf, and he had been a werewolf since he was five years old and he was suffering.

Sirius took a moment, stepping out into the cloisters, to reflect on the events of the afternoon.

He and James had noticed Remus getting peaky at regular intervals throughout most of first year. The young werewolf had been adept at changing his story, getting his work done and pulling pranks just so, so that attention slid right past him and his condition... but James had happened to make a stray joke about wolfsbane and Remus' eyes faltered. This morning Remus had showed up to breakfast with a haggard face, bleary and unfocused during Transfiguration, and McGonagall impassively told him to go to the Hospital Wing if he had flu. Remus uncomplainingly picked up his schoolbag, gathered his books in his arms and went, drifting on his feet.

James quirked an eyebrow at his friend. Sirius blinked twice. At the end of the lesson they unanimously trundled along with the other second years before disappearing into the boy's toilets until the hallways had cleared for the next lesson. They were meant to have Runes, but really, who needed to know ancient Celtic- Troll discourses?

"So listen mate, if anyone comes along, just pretend I got a hurt leg from flying this morning and it got worse and you're taking me down to the Hospital wing coz I really can't walk too good."

"Why pretend? You walked into a statue on Monday when Lily Evans turned in your direction, I could whistle her over."

"Did not!" A pause. Then "... Too much authenticity makes us look bad."

Sirius sighed, rolling his eyes and sleeking back his hair. The credibility of the Marauders was indeed Very Important.

Thankfully, they made their way without apparent incident, an old teaching assistant nodding regally as they passed. The giant doors of the Wing loomed ahead, wooden barricades with sweeping stone frames. One was ajar.

James bent his knees, breathed in and cast the invisibility cloak around them. The pair of Gryffindors took each step carefully, passing a couple of occupied beds with the curtains drawn and a table full of medical instruments.

"That's the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain in there- holy hell he's got a big bruise!" Sirius shushed him. The voices of Gaius and Pomfrey washed over them and, after a moment, a smaller younger voice joined the discourse. Remus.

"How are you holding up young man?"

"I'll be fine sir thank you- The pull of the full moon isn't as bad when there's strong cloud cover."

The Marauders crept closer. Pomfrey was turned to Gaius, one hand held out demonstratively towards Remus. Remus looked very small indeed, gazing up at the Healer with dazed eyes, distracted as though there was someone else in the room calling to him.

"Shall I conjure the chains again tonight?" Gaius spoke to Pomfrey and she nodded primly, but Remus hesitantly spoke up.

"If it's alright with you, the wolf doesn't really like to- well- it hates being constrained, and- and the shack is already confinement."

Pomfrey's eyes widened. "Nonsense Mr. Lupin! Gaius he is a very brave boy but the injuries on him afterwards- The chains help stop him from ripping himself apart- a few months ago it was regularly broken ribs, internal bleeding. Do you know how many bottles of Skele-grow it took me to put his arms back together? THREE! Not glasses, bottles! I insist on the chains."  
Gaius rocked back on his heels. Considerate, always moving, formidably bright, he had been the senior physician at Ilvermorny but took part in an exchange program and via route of Durmstrang and Ailingdao had found his way to Hogwarts for two years. Dumbledore frequently gave him leave to discover obscure things and attend Healing conferences, leaving the much more practical Madam Pomfrey in charge. Sirius and James had both been under the impression he was in Spain examining the properties of Manticore dung as an analgesic.

'three bottles?' James mouthed to Sirius 'three bloody bottles?'

Of course it would be that particular part of the conversation James was overwhelmed by. 'werewolf?' Sirius mouthed to James 'a bloody werewolf?'

Honestly, if he wasn't there to keep him on track James would have gone potty long ago.

They watched as Remus stripped out of his robes into hospital attire and clambered into an empty bed. He stayed listless but his eyes focused at the heavens- at the moon, Sirius realised.

They decided that Potions with Slughorn could not be missed in favour of watching their friend's chest rise and fall arrythmically because that was just a little too close to homoerotic for the times. Their class didn't seem to notice that they had been absent too much- Runes had the wonderful property of making everyone drowsy. Except for Lily Evans, who tossed a searching look over at them and nudged Peter. A few minutes later they had exchanged notes enough to say that they had gone to see Remus and tried to give him enough Pepper Up potion to cure his flu but they had gotten the dosage wrong and now he had chronic sneezing of a different sort. Lily had looked back flatly, rolled her eyes, and let it slide. The rest of the day continued apace.

The young Black found himself wandering out onto the grounds. He looked over at the Shack instinctively for a moment, wondering if Remus was in there yet, if he was in pain. After this full moon, they were going to talk.

He didn't know about James, but Sirius had met a werewolf once before at a fellow pureblood's birthday party. It was dressed oddly in loose harem pants and a bow tie, shaggy long hair, totally at odds with the usual stiff formality of pureblood gatherings. They had introduced it like a curio exhibit and he thought it had been made to dance. The harem pants had hidden the shape of shackles around the calves, but they couldn't hide the clinking and rattling, a strange accompaniment to the shuffling dance the beast made.

One of the children had prodded it, when the parents had tired of it, turned away and found Elderwine and point scoring as the new activities. A Mulciber, he thought. The child had asked if there were "more of you". The werewolf had stared, with bloodshot eyes, jaws quivering. "There are few like me" it at last said, with a raspy voice timbered with fear of punishment for answering and fear of punishment for refusing to answer, "because I was bitten and survived. Most bitten die, most alive are born."

The Mulciber child had sneered.

Sirius had had the idea formulating in his head for a while now that Remus might be a werewolf. It made sense, logically, for his illnesses and foibles always coincided with the full moon and Remus in no way appeared to use Dark Potions magic (the other sensible option from Peter). But trying to put together the beast from the birthday party with little shabby Remus, quiet Remus who was gentle and innately polite if untrained- that was the reason for the Big Think.

Remus had to have been bitten because he wasn't a beast as a person. It was a horrible fate for his friend, to be fighting his own body every month and hurting himself.

His feet touched the damp soil that marked 5ft from the edge of the Black Lake. Idly, he cast the countercharm for the Disillusionment Charm and let the soles of his shoes brush the surface of the water. The Black Lake was nothing to do with his family (that he had ever found) but it was nice to pretend that maybe he had a legacy that wasn't malice and madness.

What to do to save Remus?

There was no known cure for being a werewolf. Remus would have to struggle with the transformation one night a month for the rest of his life. Sirius kind of knew that, and that was kind of OK, weirdly, in his head. Remus was so goddamn peaceful the rest of the time that maybe him turning into a giant wolf was like his anger release.

The problem that he hadn't known was how badly Remus was injuring himself. One night a month was fine, but if he had to spend the next week in hospital every time growing back ribs then he'd basically be unable to work and- oh god, what happened to Remus when things like exams came along? What happened when it was time to leave Hogwarts? Would he still have to come back to the Shrieking Shack? Was there another place for him to go and protect the world from himself? What if he hurt himself so badly one time that he couldn't recover or he was so injured there was nothing they could do or-

He considered the way that Pomfrey and Gaius had talked about chains. If there were chains then the wolf couldn't move around to injure Remus and then Remus would be better sooner and things would be OK and maybe the chains were better- but Remus had said that the wolf didn't like confinement and chains made that worse and Sirius kind of understood that feeling of being trapped himself it was a feeling he'd had a lot in the Black households not as literally as Remus though he was sure and surely Remus knew best it was his own body though right?

He stopped dead, heart slamming against his sternum.

The murky waters had just rippled against his foot in the opposite direction to the waves he was making.

Sirius would never say that he was a scaredy cat. However, despite popular misconceptions, he would readily admit to having an entirely appropriate sense of self-preservation.


	2. People In Glass Houses

Breaking Form

Codename: People in Glass Houses shouldn't throw Stones ("Why don't they just charm the glass?" "Shut up James")

Sirius had definitely not imagined it. The water was rippling and swirling subtly in a way that his feet had not caused.

He sprang away from the lake shore, falling on his behind, his wand rolling out of his pocket. He landed heavily on one elbow and the impact jarred him, up his shoulder and along to his wrist.

There had been rumours that the Transfiguration professor before McGonagall had gotten into a competition with the Herbology professor at the time. The bets had started small- who could produce the biggest flower, who could find the softest texture. Who could create the smallest seed. They had escalated until finally, in a fit of rage that his superiority was questioned, the Transfiguration professor took a chunk of the forbidden forest (the Herbology professor's latest offering) and transformed it into a Giant Squid, which promptly dove into the Black Lake and inhabited it ever since.

Sirius prayed to Merlin that it wasn't the Giant Squid fancying a late night snack, and scrambled to his knees.

A tendril of water encircled his ankles and tugged gently, bringing him back to the waters edge. There were more and more, fingers and spirals and tentacles reaching out to clutch embrace and corral him. He felt himself scrape along the soil, his hands scrabbling but the land was giving way and was that a quiet ominous whooshing sound?

It was.

Squids didn't seem like they'd make that noise.

The water-tendrils were retreating and he hoped for all of three seconds it was a mermaid trying to have its wicked way with him until he noticed that his hands, which had previously been in moonlight, were in shadow.

Mermaids weren't that big.

Sirius stayed still, his pulse crashing in his ears, wanting to look and not wanting to look and wanting to look to see more than anything what was behind him so still and silent and a shadow. He wanted to bury his face into the dirt and hide and he wanted to know exactly what he was running from. He remained immobilised. Abraxas had told him, Walburga had told him, Bellatrix had shown him- he knew what was in the night and what was in the dark. He knew all about monsters and demons and spirits and curses- his father had called it toughening him up so he would be ready. But nothing prepared him for the moment he was on his hands and knees with his wand lying away with an unidentified Dark creature behind him.

He realised that nothing was happening. There was no movement, no breathing, absolute silence around him. A silence more silent than silence- a complete Deadening, save for his own life.

Sirius trembled, gulped in what could be his last lungful of air, and gave in to the fear. He slowly turned his head.

His first impression of was gleaming ink, navy blue and velvet indigo and black- rich slick wetness in the dark. His second was the burning hot air that the creature had just breathed down his spine.

It was a fucking massive horse with sentient eyes that glowed, a quiet green that flared and dimmed with the exhale.

He dimly felt the water tendrils reappear, snaking around his shoulders and turning him fully over. The horse was part of the Deadening, the cause of the Deadening, and without realising Sirius was moving forward, forward stepping up to reach out to the horse.

His mother's harpy voice chastised him in the back of his head- "Sirius Orion Black you disgraceful wretch! You bring dishonour to this family, see how easily it traps you, pathetic bloodtraitor" and he was half surprised he was grateful for the interjection because now his mouth was opening and his tongue was moving and

"What are you doing to me?"

So he could speak, but not break the spell, because that was what this must be- Magic. The horse lowered its forehead closer and closer, he would touch it any second, its green eyes still boring into his, glowing then fading with its breathing.

'I enslave your soul, son of man.'

The voice was like no-one's he had ever heard, low, rumbling, crackling with power, but oddly tinged .

At the last moment, he managed to twitch his bicep. His hand halted, jerking away from the horse's forehead.

"Kelpie!"

Naming your enemy does not usually work save in fairytales and folklore, but occasionally it is useful. Sirius was lucky- the giant horse stilled its descent to meet his hand and he had a moment to say the name twice more.

He then jumped back to why he had come here- Remus, the werewolf, how to stop him injuring himself, the water. Full moon- full moon, his wand!

He fell backwards, the water tendrils reaching to catch his fall but it was enough, his palm slamming down onto the twelve and a quarter inch rosewood. The Protego charm was up in a matter of eyeblinks.

Which could have been really slow or really fast, because the giant horse- Kelpie, Kelpie, he told himself- didn't blink at all.

In fact, it seemed to be regarding him with the same scrutiny that McGonagall sometimes gave him when she couldn't decide where he'd hidden Dungbombs on his person.

"You can't touch me now, right?" He laughed. Full moons were often used by Dark creatures to enchant and tempt foolish Muggles into their clutches.

The Kelpie bent its front legs and sank down into a folded neat thing on the shallow bottom of the lake. Its eyes never left Sirius.

But he was behind the Shield charm, so that should be OK. Whatever weird hypnosis thing it was trying would be ineffective.

He got a second good long look at the beast, this time without the compulsion to touch it, and wondered if this was what Remus looked like as a wolf, all sleek and rippling muscles and silent if deadly poise. Immediately he knew that that could not be so- the werewolf he had seen as a human was distinctly bestial in a primal, feral way.

As if thinking of him had summoned it, he heard a long wail reverb along the grounds. He stiffened, his feelings of safety from the Shield charm evaporating despite the idea that Remus was locked away securely in the Shrieking Shack. What if Remus got out? He didn't think he'd be able to make it back safely and Remus would be terrified when he changed back- what if he hurt him? Sirius may have been many things but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to look at Remus the same way if he hurt him or his wolf.

'That is not your kin, son of man.'

He turned back to the Kelpie incredulously.

"Did you just come into my thoughts?!" That wasn't anywhere in the Dark creatures handbooks- not that they were particularly useful other than how-they-might-kill-you-vs-how-you-kill-them.

The Kelpie remained silent. He looked at it from one angle and another, mistrustfully, but the eyes remained fixed on him, brightening and dimming with its breathing. Then, because this night couldn't get weirder already, he decided that on the off chance the Kelpie had actually been talking to him he was going to clarify things with the beast.

"You know what? Let's get a couple of things straight here! Remus is my friend and he has been my friend since first year. It's not his fault he's a werewolf, he was probably bitten and that can't have been fun. And he doesn't like being a werewolf he isn't proud of it! He's not a wolf most of the time so he can still be my friend and you are allowed to care about your friends so,so ...so there!"

The Kelpie's flanks heaved twice, huge flexes, then many smaller ones. It took Sirius a moment to realise that that could be technically construed as laughing. Did Dark creatures have a sense of humour?

'What ambitions have you, Son of Man?'

It was strange. The horse's mouth hadn't moved, but Sirius hadn't felt any kind of penetration that could be expected of a Legilimens- if a Dark creature could even do that.

He wasn't foolish enough to answer that. Goblins would barter with you and leave you fools gold, faeries would steal your children and trolls- well, very few conversations with trolls ever had a happy ending. Usually they got bored of whatever you were talking about and started hitting things. Unfortunate of you to be in the way.

He pivoted on one heel, intent on going back to the castle and the safety of his bed up in Gryffindor Tower, but the water-tendrils blocked his path. They were getting closer to the witching hour and the cloud cover was fading.

'What ambitions have you, Son of Man?'

It appeared Sirius' beauty sleep wouldn't be happening until he started talking again.

"I want- I want to help Remus, so he doesn't hurt himself. And right now I want to go to bed, and I want to stay true to myself." He added that last bit out of a paranoid hunch that the Kelpie might take it upon itself to transform him horribly or keep trying to enslave his soul.

It exhaled again, sides heaving, otherwise placid.

'I will strike a bargain. Your ambitions will be true, and I will call you again.'

Sirius wasn't entirely sure what the Kelpie got out of it and he was definitely reluctant to agree to anything that wasn't 15 pages of parchment triple signed and claused to death, but he had enough sense to realise that it was entirely probable he couldn't leave if he didn't agree.

"Deal."

Obligingly, the water-tendrils parted. Sirius bolted, and when he looked over his shoulder, sure that it would default on their makeshift agreement, the Kelpie was smoothing back into the lake, seamless and tranquil. The last things to submerge were the two glowing green eyes, that burned brighter with every breath in.

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When the door crashed open to the second year Gryffindor boy's dormitory, Peter bolted upright. James was already sitting at the end of his bed, cross legged and stiff.

"Jesus Christ!" Pete squawked.

The two of them looked down at the sodden mess gasping for breath on the floor. Then, tentatively, one of them poked it. It rolled over and became recognisable as Sirius.

"What happened to him?" Pettigrew wrung his hands, turning to James. James set his jaw grimly. He spoke with the voice of a boy who has seen much beyond his years.

"He tried to run all the way up the Tower."

Pete gasped, face going pale as his gaze flitted over his friend, who was currently engaged in a sort of Rimegar Advanced Yoga in an attempt to rid himself of a stitch.

"Mate, what happened?"

"One-" click "second" crack "please". Sirius was bent double, hands on his knees as he panted.

"Blimey, haven't seen you this knackered since Snape burned a hole in your cauldron." James sprung off the bed, arms unfolding and one hand reaching to give his friend a lift up back to the world of the Normal People.

With a sigh and one huge crick of his neck, Sirius finally righted himself.

"I just did possibly the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life."

"Whaaaat?! Without us?!"

James' indignance soon abated as Sirius recounted the tale, his eyes glimmering with apprehension instead.

"Was it a male or a female horse?"

"Did it smell of fish?" Peter wanted to know.

"I don't know and no," Sirius replied, "I was only down there because I was hoping to figure out what to do about Remus."

"Maybe we should see what it says when it calls you again?"

"Pete, THAT would be the stupidest thing you've ever done in your life."

"Yeah hah, worse than your enchanted cutlery." (Peter had at one point in his life thought it would be fun to have dancing cutlery at the table- some relic of seeing rebellious Muggle children. The spoons just left bruises but the knives and forks could be down right vicious while stamping out a mambo.)

"Well, you obviously filled Pete in on our trip to the Hospital Wing this morning."

"Yeah James did. I was kinda thinking that it's not fai-"

"-fair for him to be chained up like that. I know. We have to go talk to him when he gets back into the Wing tomorrow."

James adjusted the glasses on his nose.

"I was thinking we could stupefy him and like, knock him out. That way if the wolf is unconscious too as well as Remus he won't fight and hurt Remus."

"Yeah but a werewolf is a lot bigger than a normal human being he'd need basically four or five Stunners at the same time- and if there are more of us that makes it more risky that one of us gets hurt."

"What about if we like laid out meat to make sure it was happy and not hungry? Dogs go to sleep after they've eaten right?"

"Yeah but Pomfrey and Gaius would notice and I think we are all in agreement that we don't want them to know we know because then we would not be allowed within 20 miles of that shack."

"Also there is the small fact that it might want to find more meat and try and break out and go hunting." James nodded seriously.

"Wolf treadmill? So it can run and run and get exhausted and not hurt Remus?"

"NO!" "Not so keen on that one."

"Well ok, what about... nah- that would be risky."

"Keep thinking lads, we'll find something soon."

Sirius was the first of the three to excuse himself and draw his curtains. As much as they wanted to help Remus right this instant now, he knew he would be brighter in the morning. Plus that brush with the weird horse thing and the subsequent run had knocked him flat big time.

Peter followed him, leaving James to sit up in his bed, thumb polishing his glasses with a rag, a faraway look in his eye.

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Remus was returned to classes two days later, without much ceremony. He looked as pale as every other full moon recovery, not saying much, trying to catch up on the days he had missed. James wondered why the teachers weren't more understanding of his condition when he clearly couldn't do homework on certain nights.

He grinned to the other Gryffindors and at lunch made a show of being able to juggle grapes, a feat which so greatly impressed Marlene that she had a go and ended up losing a few in her hair and down her shirt. Remus blushed, embarrassed as she tried to find them, hands patting herself all over.

"wait wait I got one!" she crowed exuberantly, giving a harder slap to double check- her face quickly fell into a look of horror as she realised she had squished the grape against her skin.

Sirius was stuffing his knuckles into his mouth to control his laughter, and one look at the other Gryffindors was enough to set them off til even Marlene relaxed and found the humour in it.

They went back to the tower to exchange their books before the afternoon lessons and chill in the common room. James challenged a third year to a game of exploding snap, perhaps somewhat foolishly claiming that his glasses protected him from losing any eyebrows. The third year simply waited until he was fully immersed in the game before hexing him with unstoppable hair growth.

One of the prefects, Maconia Creevey, was summoned to undo the damage after James was sitting in what appeared to be a miniature bathtub of hair.

"Cheers Creevey!" He smiled, after she took out her wand and got to work with a slicing spell. He would later swear to Remus that he had been terrified she'd accidentally nick his balls.

But all of this couldn't help but feel like biding time for Sirius, filler until they got to the part where they could actually talk to Remus in private and let him know they knew.

That part came sooner than expected- Remus declared that he still wasn't quite over that flu and he was going to stay behind from dinner but that the fat lot of pigs they were had better bring some good things back for him. James therefore looked at Sirius intently and threatened him to "Make good your Most Noble House of Black knowledge somehow and find the Chief Overlord Fat Pig the best meats divine." Sirius promptly told him to stop acting poncy and stick it where the sun don't shine, before winking soppily at Remus and taking his broom to fly -illegally- along the corridors to the pear.

The two house-elves who were present when he tickled the pear bobbed up and down and asked him how Master Lupin liked his steak. Sirius went to say 'done', but stopped for a second. "Rare as you can", he finally muttered, "and can we have lots of cinnamon buns too. They're restorative for my health they are."

It is a little known fact that the house-elf chefs of Hogwarts Kitchen can give nutrition advice more reliable than any practitioner on Harley St or Healer at St Mungo's. Dusty, a middle aged female with a heart shaped, wrinkly face, peered up at Sirius to inform him he needed two tomatoes in the next week or he was going to catch a cold. Her friend, Mops, nudged her slightly, til she added he also had better find some prawns and bananas because he was due to have a potassium deficiency in the upcoming month and his shellfish resilience needed improving.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow but approved the steaming piles of food they laid out for him eagerly. They would be transported by Elf magic up to the second year boys' dormitory to help heal the sick young Master Lupin.

The food beat him back up the tower, but only just, and all four boys tucked in greedily. Peter gave a moan, cheeks bulging with steamed bun, eyes drifting shut in pleasure. James looked as though manna was falling from heaven. Only Remus came up short for a moment, quizzically examining the 'rare' steak that the Elves had brought. It was practically still bleeding.

He looked around the room and upon seeing that everyone else was engaged with their food - (Pete was serenading his) dug into the steak and kale. Remus thought it might just be the best food he'd ever eaten.

Sirius waited until their bellies were bulging before clearing his throat and looking meaningfully at James and Peter. James immediately refocused but Pete looked a little dazed still and he guessed that was ok, as soon as Sirius spoke he'd be back with them.

"Um, Remus?"

The werewolf smiled lazily at them, flopped stomach down on his bed. "Yeah?"

"So... couple days ago James and I snuck into the Hospital wing to see you, and we overheard Madam Pomfrey and Master Gaius talking."

Remus bolted upright, and his eyes were wild. Sirius noticed with alarm that his legs were shaking slightly.

"Oh god. You know."

"We know." They chorused. Remus rubbed his face with one hand.

"I totally understand if I need to move, I'm so sorry I really didn't like hiding it from you guys and I've never hurt anyone and-"

"Never hurt anyone except yourself", James interjected, "We heard about the three bottles of Skele-Grow. Three bloody bottles!"

"We have been over that one James, move on."

"Why don't you move on! You need to grow up and be more... serious... ba dum dum dooosh." They all habitually groaned. Sirius/serious puns had been the height of humour for about a month of first year but once you had overplayed it there really was no going back.

"So... I'm not out?"

"Out? No way! Who would get Flitwick into an academic debate as a diversion when we swap the Slytherin's owl post? Who else is dumb enough to try and tell Lily that James isn't an absolute prat? Who else can eat five Vanishing Sausages back to back and still feel where the first one is?!"

"Not my finest hour," Remus demurred, but he was thumped on the back. "Still pretty impressive!"

"Look, Rem. You've been an all round great guy since we got here, but it was going to take more than 'my grandma is sick again' to stop us figuring out it was the same time, once a month. You and the Healers just gave us the proof we needed, right from the Griffon's mouth. We know it mustn't be easy but we wanted to be here and like, do what we could to help you out. And maybe y'know, do an awesome prank once a month to help disguise your absence."

Remus blinked rapidly and on closer inspection Sirius saw the approach of TEARS.

"You guys are fucking brilliant imbeciles."

"Huh?"

"Was that...insult or...?"

"I dunno- anyways, tell us what it's like. We know you're hurting yourself and we were thinking up ways for the wolf to not hurt you. So far the best one we've come up with is Stunning you, which seems pretty shite to be honest."

Remus gave a short description of the transformation, which rippled down the spine and spread outwards, like something inside him was being unzipped and released out into the night. Chains, he said, were not good. Really not good. He might not be able to move around as much, but that meant the wolf was more persistant at worrying what he could reach of himself. This full moon he had taken to biting on the chains so hard that when Remus woke up two of his teeth were cracked through and Madam Pomfrey had needed to replace them.

Stunning had been the way Remus had transformed before he came to Hogwarts, but the mental repression of the wolf led to it bleeding and seeping into his mental faculties the rest of the time. James had listened incredulously, not entirely sure what he meant. "It's not", and here Remus swallowed, because it was hard for him, "Its not like there's two separate beings in me, me-Remus and the wolf, and the wolf only comes out in the full moon. The wolf is me and if I don't give that part of me its sufficient dues then it hurts me the rest of the time."

Pete flicked his eyes up "is that why you get so out of it before the moon?"

Remus, to their surprise, blushed.

"The moon is like... the moon is like, a Siren."

Peter still looked confused but James swore that they were "all extinct now and have been for years. The last one interbred and produced a Muggle singer called Adele, I promise!"

"It's like- the way it glows and calls to me is the sweetest thing on earth, and resisting it is so hard."

"Sweeter than Honeydukes stock?" That was Peter, ever dubious and fiercely loyal to Hogsmeade confectionery.

"Yeah. Sweeter than that. Like the best chocolate-whipple-marshmallow-sugarquill-knickerbocker-whizzing sundae ever,"  
Remus looked up dreamily, instinctively seeking the light, "but soft and gentle- like a mother's hands."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, a 'can you believe the sap of this guy' over to the other two Gryffindors, but it appeared his childhood experiences of a mothers hands were different to theirs because if they had looked sceptical before they were now totally on board with Remus' description.

"I get that way when I look at my broom sometimes."

They laughed, and the conversation moved to Quidditch and how the Chudley Cannons were definitely going to win the tournament this year and how James was a big fat liar because Puddlemere United was looking hot, and anyway Peter was going to Keep them all out of the water.

Sirius grinned, enjoying the company of his friends, until his eyes focused on the window behind the four poster beds and the fading dusk outside. The Kelpie had never been far from his mind, and he was sure, even now as he tossed aside his prejudices for Remus, that the Dark Creature lurked waiting to trap him.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading, hope you like it! ~featheredblades 


	3. Too Many Cooks Spoil The Broth

**Breaking Form: Too Many Cooks Spoil The Broth**

 **("Why don't they just Vanish it?" "Shut up James!")**

It's a few days before Sirius feels the Call. Enough time for the foreboding to die down, subsumed by everything else that takes up a thirteen year old's life- Quidditch, food, lessons, food, pranks, how big Slytherins' noses grow.

He's in Potions, heating beeswax in a cauldron absentmindedly, thinking that Professor Slughorn could probably squish Peter if he were tempted to sit on him, and he feels it. Like a spark, like somebody just chimed a tiny little bell, like the click of two magnets coming together, something shifting in his gut. There's a moment of ease and silence and quiet and then the pull. His arms feel bloodlost and pins and needles erupt in his toes, his heart racing and pacing and his lungs sucking in air, demanding him to move, he's stayed still for too long.

The traitor Black glances around the room and messes his hair back with one hand, the other loosely gripping his wand to direct the heat at the cauldron. Nobody else seems to have noticed him, nor has anyone else broken into hives or mad frenzies of jigs and bobs and running men on the spot. There's a surge of adrenaline that he knows is not him it's from his body but it's not him it's not him and Sirius looks down at himself abruptly, alarmed that if this is possible what else is possible.

He stands up, pushing his stool back with a screech that sounds like Medusa's dirty talk, ignores the stares and turns to James- "cover for me mate I'm feeling shite I really- I really need to go", and sweeps out of the room, bashing his shoulder on the door frame on the way out. He stumbles down the corridor, finding that as soon as he starts moving it's OK, it's better, he's moving and that's what his body wants to do.

The idea that his feet might be taking him to the bottom of the Black Lake crosses his mind with a flash of panic, but it seems to be alright because he runs for the tower and there's no pain or anything to tell him no, if anything his body urges him on, faster and more efficient than he has been before- the lactic acid doesn't seem to come like usual and he's storming up the steps, legs burning but _not_ burning and why aren't they burning but he's already leaping between moving staircases and along to the Fat Lady's portrait, gasping out a password he's sure Remus told him five times over this morning but it's still the wrong one, and he's on his knees begging her he has to move has to get up there he has to find something.

The Fat Lady stares down at the panting heaving pile of robes that is currently masquerading as Sirius Black. The Black is an athletic child, prone to all sorts of mischief, but she has never seen someone who is not being chased by Slytherin Beaters so desperate to get into the common room. It is the wrong password- hasn't been used since twenty three years after she was painted here actually- and she suspects for a moment that transfiguration or a Polyjuice potion is in play. She bustles over to have a closer look at him and decides that even if it is an imposter, they've done a very good job and it's about time Sirius Orion Black had some payback.

She swings open the porthole to let him through.

Sirius for his part dives through the opening and in a manner like Tom Cruise stunts rolls neatly head over heels along the floor, narrowly avoiding a sofa, to arrive at his stairs. A fresh wave of energy and panic flows through him and Sirius knows this isn't him but whatever it is he's got to do it, thundering up the stairs to the second year's boys dormitory.

He sprawls into his room, eyes flickering manically and thinks this should be it, there is nowhere else to go from here- what more can they want from him? But no, now the itching nervous restless feeling is still here and telling him that he doesn't like heights- well why the fuck did his body make him run all the way up to the tower then? That's just illogical!

In an act of total idiocy, last resort and disregard for any conventions Hogwarts has ever had, he grabs the broom Mr Potter got for him last Christmas and leaps out the window, falling down the sheer slopes of the castle walls- praying to the magic that he won't plummet to his death.

He falls, faster and faster and the wind rushes and presses into his face and his eyes and his clothes are swinging wildly around him and he's not strong enough to pull his broom in closer to him and oh Merlin oh fucking Merlin he's really done it now, he's going to die and it's all because he was stupid and made a deal with a Kelpie and there's nothing to save him but the broom that's slowly being prised from his hands.

His shoe rasps against the side of the walls, jarring him, and he thinks this might be an opportunity for a better grip so he leans away from his broom, billowing robes shifting him into the castle walls- there was a fourth floor window by his knee- some astonished Divination sixth years- he's getting closer to the ground and faster still and it's a crushing pressure he can't breathe and his foot scrapes on the stone but theres one out of place 20 ft below him- 15ft- 10 ft, he closes his eyes and hopes and feels the judder as his legs crash up and its just enough to bring his broom down pinning his chest over top of it and bringing control back to the fall to swoop away and onto the grounds.

Sirius lands with a heavy thud- winded and buzzing and tingling joints from the impact, but joyously gloriously alive. When he can, he sits up, hair askew, and pumps his fist in the air. "I did it! I bloody did it! Did you see that?! Wooohoooo!"

There is nobody on the grounds to respond to him but he doesn't care, he stands tenderly and the grin on his face has enough wattage to power all of Scotland for a month. The celebration masks the fact that all his behaviour up to that point was based on pure irrational terror bolting through his veins and he has a small inkling of why.

The Gryffindor grits his teeth and clutches his broom tight to him, setting off wobbly towards the Lake.

"What the hell are you playing at?" He murmurs to the sky above, hoping that the blessed Merlin would be able to enlighten him a little more- or if not him, then Morgana, his mother's chosen saint-mage.

Instead of the sky, the water answers, familiar little ripples in the surface creating spirals and whorls and groans and puts his head in his hands, sinking down into a crouch. He is definitely not ready for this.

But instead of the Kelpie appearing with its weird hallucination-hypnotising thingymajig going on, the patterns tease him, prowling towards him and back along the shore line until Sirius gets the message that it's time to follow them. He sets off warily, broom half held as some sort of bo staff weapon (apparently they're popular with magicians in the east instead of wands. Sirius thinks that might be practical if you've got Chinese Cresteds lurking around). The soil and mud and reeds cling to the soles of his shoes with a wet shuck-shuuuuck sound as he pads along the water's edge, along to the far side of the lake. It's quiet, and the silhouette of the castle fades as the morning mist envelops him. It feels like somebody is blocking his way out.

The lake ripples again, plinking and swirling and directing him to stand still.

Sirius searches for the Kelpie in the mist but there doesn't appear to be anything remotely huge and loomy and evil and horse-shaped. What there are is little specks and glimmers of light, florescent sparkles along the crests and rims of the ripples. If he weren't on Marauder High Alert he might even be tempted to release a sigh. They seem soothing, peaceful. Innocuous, his inner Slytherin whispers, good bait.

A quiet laugh echoes.

Sirius freezes, eyes darting around, his jaw slack in concentration. He wishes 100% for the solidarity of his brother-from-another-mother at his back.

The Kelpie's shoulders rise from the depths, its head lowered as though grazing on the bed of the lake, glowing eyes turned towards the reeds and rocks. It nickers placidly when it spots him, returning to its inspection of whatever the bottom holds.

'No bait, Son of Man. I Called, and you came.'

"Yeah, I did." Sirius shifts awkwardly, not entirely sure what happens next.

'Tell me about Remus.'

The voice is its usual unnatural self, except for Remus' name- the Kelpie utters it in the very exact way that Sirius had said it the last time they spoke, like it was a tape recording, or an automated telephone operator. Its even weirder to hear his own voice back at him, resounding in his head.

"Remus? Well, Remus is- Remus is... he's kinda lanky, and he's got sandy brown hair, and kinda bluey-green eyes, and his robes don't fit him very well so I think it's kind of a shabby look, and when we first met he'd never been to a Quidditch match- imagine that, never seen Quidditch! so I insisted taking him over Christmas and now he supports Puddlemere United but he's not very good at flying anyway- anyway, he likes books and caramel chocolate and in the morning he always eats eggy toast and pumpkin juice..."

Sirius starts talking, and once he's talking he can't stop- his mother always used to call him a smart mouth before she charmed a switch to beat his ankle if he spoke in a manner inappropriate to the dinner table. He didn't realise that he knew so much about Remus but every little detail comes, and the inky horse stays quiet, ears twitching back and forth, listening intently, absorbed.

Eventually his mouth falls shut, and he's not entirely sure that he has any words left in him. The Kelpie feels safer, the way it hasn't pounced upon him immediately with its water-tendrils.

'You and James and Peter wish to help Remus to find a way to stop him injuring himself during the full moons?'

"Uhhh... yeah?"

'All three of you?'

"I think so? I mean James when he really wants something he really goes for it, you know? And I haven't seen him this serious since the Sorting Hat was dropped in front of him. We tried everything we know but Remus always looks at us like its nice we're trying but it'd just make things worse."

The Kelpie shifts on one leg, haunches tilting on one hock, looking at him consideringly.

'Ere there is a will, ere there is a way, Sirius Black. Disturbed waters come back to rest and clarity is restored.'

With this mystic prophecy bullshit apparently over, it snorts, sides heaving in a laugh that resounds off the water, and folds itself down beneath the surface- leaving Sirius in the mist, alone, clutching a broomstick with sodden robes.

"Wait! What's the way?!" Sirius calls out- but it's only his own voice coming back to him and with that he realises the Calling to the lake has lifted totally, all remnants of odd behaviour seeping out of him, and he trudges out onto the banks, lifts his leg over the broom and soars back to lunch.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x The castle is alive and bustling with gossip- someone has hexed Arthur Weasley and he in turn knocked over a statue which concussed two Ravenclaws and left their wands pointed touching each other's tips gathering magical charge and then that caused a giant snow flurry on the second floor and THAT started a snowball fight and now Professor Slughorn is traipsing around the classrooms beckoning students to warm up frozen hands and promising them that there won't be any detention because he knows their father/mother/uncle/nurse's donkey and couldn't conceive of such bad character in the family.

Sirius gets pelted with snow (which emits a high pitched sneeze as it hits him in the side of the head- makes one feel dreadfully uneasy about the snow's composition) and he looks up to see the other three members of his brood cheerfully clambering about on a moving staircase, using it as a vantage point for sniper snowballs. James is crowing, cheeks reddened and glowing, arms held aloft in sportsmanlike showing- when along comes Lily Evans, eyes lifted to the heavens- at precisely the wrong moment for his palm to spasm and a snowball to shoot down her neck and in the back of her shirt. He guffaws, whooping loudly.

Lily absolutely looses it. Her cheeks flush a furious shade of rouge, darker than her hair, and her whole body ripples with indignation. She glares at him and then whips her head around, searching for something.

She stalks over to Sirius and growls, "Gimme that!", swiping his broom out of his hands, before rising like some blood tinted Valkyrie, flying up and up to the moving staircase where she proceeds to berate James and box him senseless.

Sirius turns to look for a teacher but as ever in these situations, McGonagall is nowhere to be found and Slughorn has toddled off somewhere out of reach. James calls out for his brothers-in-arms to help and save him (Lily is currently pinching his ears and pulling them away from his face) and Peter attempts to tackle Lily from behind but Remus gets in the way and they kinda tumble down the staircase together in an odd lumpy bumpy tangly mess, down into a corridor of safety...

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James later that evening elbows Sirius while they pour over a Charms essay. They're debating about whether the physical relation between the elbow and wrist angles has any effect on Incendio and Aguamenti charms, and have thirteen inches left of parchment.

"What was that in Potions this morning mate?"

Sirius puts down his quill and cracks his knuckles.

"I dunno its was really weird- it was like I wasn't in control of my body and I felt really shite- went up to the dorm and went flying til it passed."

"You think someone cursed you?"

"Dunno. Maybe I ate something."

"At Hogwarts?!" Sirius can understand James' incredulity- the kitchens make every possible kind of food amazing. He looks down at the desk and flashes the Potter a smirk.

"Florian Fortescue's little cousin is in third year, Hufflepuff- she was kind enough to share something from her trunk with me when she saw me looking rough."

"Was she cute?!" James immediately takes the bait and they consider the merits of ice cream and sweet treats and Hufflepuff girls.

Sirius doesn't know why he kept the Kelpie's Calling a secret- it seemed to have no consequences and was a bit pointless, but he'd still normally tell James things like that. Secrets are reserved for Quidditch spoilers, presents and the time he broke an old vase at the Potters' house and cast a Confundus charm.

He thinks that they'll be able to solve Remus' furry little problem by themselves anyway.

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A/N; Thanks for reading and the lovely PMs! Let me know if you want to see anything appear in the story, drop me a review! Next time: A full moon Aid attempt goes wrong... xx FeatheredBlades


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